


Letting Go

by alafaye



Series: Valentine's 2012 [12]
Category: Sherlock Holmes - Arthur Conan Doyle
Genre: F/M, Gen, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-02-14
Updated: 2012-02-14
Packaged: 2017-10-31 03:53:02
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 432
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/339590
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/alafaye/pseuds/alafaye
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Holmes watches and tries to let go.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Letting Go

**Author's Note:**

> Written as a personal challenge to write pieces that are not the usual bits that pop up around Valentine's.
> 
> Apologies if I failed to get the canon timeline right.

Holmes clasped his hands behind his back and took a deep breath. Quiet. London had been so quiet lately. Oh, to be sure, there were the usual goings on. Secrets and murder and all such of that. But none had come to his attention. He dared not attribute it to Watson's announcement, but it was no secret that his lackluster spirit had fallen just as Watson had told him of his plans to wed Ms. Morstan.

He shook his head. Enough of that nonsense. Just a quick jaunt through the park and he would be as right as rain. He was sure of it. 

Laughter up ahead. A couple walking toward him. Was that--he ducked behind a tree, thick enough to hide three men of similar size to himself, and he watched the couple pass by. Yes, that was Watson. His dear friend. One of few and now infatuated with a simpering woman who could only guess at the prize she had stolen from Holmes. He followed them down another path to a bench where they sat and shared lovers' secrets.

He could see their future, clear as day unfold before his eyes. Marriage, yes. She was everything Watson had ever wanted. Or thought he did. She, of course, would wear white and it would be very simple. Watson might wear his uniform. A year later and she would have their first child, right when Watson would be firmly settled in a private study where he could treat his own children's colds and aches.

Holmes turned away from the scene and sighed. Why could his Watson not be content at their bachelor's flat on Baker Street? It suited them both, rooms for each of them but each bed having room enough if they wanted to share. Mrs. Hudson was quiet and kept her secrets, deaf when the occasion called for it. Plenty of those in need of care knew they could call upon Watson and help him earn his keep. They could keep on uncovering the secrets thieves and murderers tried to hide. Have adventures.

Holmes sobered. It sounded all so much like a boyhood dream and maybe...maybe Watson was ready to move on past that. Maybe he wanted more than boyhood dreams.

He left the lovers to their laughter and coy looks. They need not know how they were slowly chipping away at his soul. Holmes would let them be, let his Watson go. He had his memories and his violin and his cases. He had to make these enough.

Even if, deep inside, he knew they were not.


End file.
